


The Game of Adultery

by Kantayra



Series: Atobe/Tezuka Future 'Verse [4]
Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Future Fic, M/M, Roleplay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-12-17
Updated: 2009-12-17
Packaged: 2017-10-19 02:08:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,407
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/195692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kantayra/pseuds/Kantayra
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which a drunk Atobe tries to pick Tezuka up at a bar, and Tezuka is very, very married.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Game of Adultery

**Author's Note:**

> Future fic where *gasp* they're all _tennis pros_! Wow, I am so creative and original. *face palm* Seriously, the _real_ warning for this fic should be that it is pure mental masturbation on my part and has no redeeming value whatsoever. Oops.

He caught Atobe’s eye all the way across the crowded ballroom. That was how magnificent he was.

Atobe had been sipping his champagne (a bit generously, perhaps), entertaining a half dozen or so of his father’s investors in the latest expansion of the sporting-goods sector of the Atobe empire, and Atobe’s eyes had drifted over to _him_ , and the world stopped.

Then one of the investors laughed loudly and belatedly, sounding rather like a braying donkey in the process, at the anecdote Atobe had just told about the in-squabbling that had occurred behind the scenes at the preliminaries for the Australian Open.

It snapped Atobe out of his daze, and he checked his watch. It was 11:30 – longer than he’d planned to stay. “I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me, ladies and gentlemen,” he said smoothly, “but a pro’s schedule is unbearably strict and I have others to grace with my presence.”

The women flushed, and the men chuckled at their own private showing of Atobe’s infamously arrogant persona, and he left them with a wink and a final toast, before heading casually over to the bar, offering a smile and handshake to anyone who happened to be in his way, but never lingering. His time now clearly belonged to the gorgeous creature sitting on the corner barstool.

Trim, lean, and athletic, Tezuka Kunimitsu had only grown more impressive since their junior-high years. He had seemed a formidable opponent and worthy adversary even back then, but now the aura of command around him had grown. In a way, power was Tezuka’s birthright every bit as much as it was Atobe’s. The guests who passed Tezuka by couldn’t help but stop and look, awed by his magnificence. He and Atobe were clearly two birds of a feather.

Atobe licked his lips as he approached from behind. “Buy you a drink?” he purred into Tezuka’s ear in a sultry voice. His eyes raked down to appreciatively take in the firm curve of Tezuka’s exquisitely sculpted behind.

Tezuka grunted like he’d been getting this a lot. “I’m _married_.” He held up his hand without even bothering to look, and the platinum band on his finger glistened.

Atobe made a little huffing sound and sat himself down on the stool beside Tezuka. “Surely an exception could be made for someone as incredibly handsome as me?” he teased.

Tezuka’s eyes widened behind his glasses when he recognized Atobe. “Oh,” he said simply. “It’s you. I should’ve known.” He took another sip of his wine. His cheeks were a bit flushed, too.

Atobe took some satisfaction in the fact that he wouldn’t be the only one who had to suffer through rigorous training in the morning hung-over. He took some satisfaction, as well, at how perfectly rumpled Tezuka looked. His hair was just a touch more chaotic than usual, the bowtie of his tux had been undone, and his pink cheeks made him look about to be debauched. Maybe it was the alcohol talking – because this was such a public place and _totally_ inappropriate – but Atobe wanted to debauch him right there, over the bar, with all of his father’s investors watching. Really, Tezuka had always been such a horrible tease, so gorgeous and sexy, yet always so proper and aloof.

Atobe sighed wistfully, his cheek propped up on one elbow on the bar, and realized he’d been gazing at Tezuka for far too long to appear normal now. Atobe reconsidered his current state; he was _definitely_ tipsy.

“What?” Tezuka asked, looking nervously over at him.

“Mmm,” Atobe said with an uncaring shrug of his shoulders. “Have they been too terrible?” he inquired. “I’m sure even the gold-diggers get tired of old men from time to time and can’t resist the celebrity guest’s firm, young flesh.” Atobe’s hand hovered over Tezuka’s pert little behind longingly.

Tezuka scowled at him, caught his wrist, and set it firmly back on the bar. “Gold-diggers aren’t the only ones, apparently,” he commented wryly.

That was when Atobe realized that Tezuka wasn’t quite as drunk as he was, which was completely unfair because he needed his full faculties just to keep apace with Tezuka. Tezuka had an unfair advantage right now, and Atobe didn’t like that at all, especially since he was trying to score.

“It’s a crime, really,” Atobe said casually. “Some little wife sinks her claws into you, and such a perfect specimen becomes off-limits. Only someone exceptionally greedy would keep you for themselves.”

Tezuka snorted. “And you, I suppose, would prefer to generously donate your body to the world.” He inclined an eyebrow at the ring on Atobe’s finger.

Atobe studied it curiously for a minute. “I’d generously donate my body to _you_ ,” he finally decided.

A quirk of amusement curved Tezuka’s lips. “You’re drunk,” he accused.

“So?” Atobe blinked at him and sidled in closer, curving his fingers around Tezuka’s bicep.

Tezuka stared pointedly down at them, then pointedly up at Atobe. “You’re hopeless,” he finally sighed despairingly.

Atobe smirked. He liked it when Tezuka gave in, just a little, to Atobe’s overwhelming inevitability. “Hmm,” Atobe agreed, “you say the sweetest things.”

“Incorrigible, too.” Tezuka finished off his drink.

“If you’re so smitten,” Atobe concluded sullenly, “why don’t you tell me all about this _wonderful_ wife of yours? What keeps you so loyal, hmm?” Atobe leaned in closer and could smell the haze of Tezuka’s cologne: a subtle, masculine scent. Tezuka only had the best taste, of course.

“No,” Tezuka informed him sternly. “In fact, I think it’s about time to go home.”

Atobe pouted. “But I like it here,” he insisted. “Stay with me?”

Tezuka rolled his eyes. “If you stay much longer, you’re going to embarrass your father.” He rose from his seat.

Atobe rose only a millisecond after and in just such a way that they ended up pressed way too close together. Atobe pretended to stumble forward, just a little, and Tezuka instinctively caught his shoulders with powerful, elegant hands. Atobe, paradoxically, _shivered_ at the warmth in those hands. He leaned on Tezuka’s strong frame so that their chests were rubbing, and certain things down below were brushing, as well.

Tezuka’s eyes widened when he realized Atobe was doing it on purpose.

Atobe’s grin turned shark-like when he confirmed that Tezuka was hard.

“See?” Atobe slid his hands around Tezuka’s waist to pull him in closer. “You _do_ want me, right here, right now…” He breathed against Tezuka’s cheek.

Tezuka halfheartedly tried to push him back to a safe distance, but he was fighting his own body’s instincts now, and it was a nearly insurmountable battle.

“You smell so good,” Atobe sighed with a hint of sappy drunkenness, and leaned in to take what he wanted from Tezuka’s lips.

Tezuka’s cheeks blushed bright red at the kiss, and he looked around nervously to where several nearby guests were doing a very bad job pretending that they weren’t gawking. Tezuka pulled back and pressed a fingertip to Atobe’s lips to stop the next assault.

“The married thing is getting _really_ old right about now,” Atobe growled.

“We’re in _public_ ,” Tezuka hissed back. “Try to contain yourself.”

“With you?” Atobe purred and buried his nose against the curve of Tezuka’s throat. “Impossible.”

Tezuka blushed further at the attention they were receiving and offered a weak, “Uh, he’s had too much to drink. So sorry.”

Atobe snorted. “Dance with me,” he requested illogically, because the band had packed up a little while ago.

“I think we should go see your father,” Tezuka retorted and started shuffling him off in that direction.

Atobe would have complained, but Tezuka’s hand was warm and firm at the small of his back, guiding him, and he couldn’t really object to that delicious sensation. Besides, Tezuka wasn’t dislodging Atobe’s head from his shoulder, and Tezuka’s shoulder was a really nice place to be, all broad and strong and Tezuka-scented. Atobe nuzzled him and did a few things with his lips and teeth that made Tezuka’s hand push harder on his back and move him forward faster.

Atobe finally processed where they were going when he caught sight of his father, at the center of another circle of investors. His mother stood off to one side, carefully sipping a glass of water, sharp eyes watching them all.

Atobe gave her a little wave. She gave him a weary look back and whispered something in Atobe’s father’s ear. He excused himself from the group, and all too soon Tezuka was presenting Atobe to his parents.

“Your son,” Tezuka informed them blandly, “has been drinking too much champagne.”

Atobe’s father sighed. “Clearly, his wife hasn’t been watching him closely enough tonight.”

“I’m sure his wife was busy attending to your guests,” Tezuka retorted.

“And not paying enough attention to me,” Atobe complained and licked Tezuka’s collarbone.

Tezuka barely held in a little gasp, but Atobe could feel it through the movement of Tezuka’s chest.

“Oh, Keigo,” Atobe’s mother shook her head and took another sip of water. “You never could hold your liquor.”

Atobe pouted. “Well, neither can you. It’s _your_ genes,” he complained unreasonably.

“Drink water,” Atobe’s father chided him.

“In any case,” Tezuka concluded, “he needs to go home. He’s been getting, uh, _amorous_.” Tezuka’s cheeks flushed when Atobe took that moment to grope him.

Atobe’s mother coolly stepped to the side so that she was blocking the very inappropriate things Atobe’s hand was doing from any of the guests’ line of sight. “This seems wise,” she agreed.

“It’s mostly down to the old, drunken businessmen at this point, anyway,” Atobe’s father concluded, giving his son a fond smile. “There won’t be much for you to do except watch bad karaoke.”

“I wanna dance,” Atobe pouted.

“You want to go home with your lovely wife,” Atobe’s mother corrected him. “I’ll have Geoffrey bring the car around for the two of you.”

“Thank you,” Tezuka agreed, “and I am sorry to rush out on you like this.”

Atobe’s father waved them off. “It’s like I always say: raise a disobedient son, earn yourself an obedient son-in-law.”

Tezuka smirked back at him and hustled Atobe off.

“See?” Atobe mumbled against Tezuka’s shoulder as they got their coats and headed for the front door. “They weren’t mad…”

“Undoubtedly because I caught you before you got too out of hand,” Tezuka scolded him.

“You like it when I’m out of hand,” Atobe concluded.

Tezuka sighed. “I suppose so,” he agreed and stepped out into the chill of the night. Luckily, their car was already waiting.

Atobe shivered and curled up closer to him. Now that there was no one to see them aside from their driver and the night sky, Tezuka wrapped his arm around Atobe’s body, holding him close for warmth as they dashed into the limo.

“You know,” Atobe sighed when he’d sprawled out along the length of the limo seat, his head pillowed on Tezuka’s lap so that he could gaze up at him, “we should do that again some time.”

“What? Get drunk at one of your father’s parties?” Tezuka snorted.

“No,” Atobe’s hand drifted up to trace the firm line of Tezuka’s jaw with a shaky index finger, “play that little game.”

“‘Little game’?” Tezuka caught Atobe’s wandering hand and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles.

“Where I’m the naughty, sexy philanderer, and you’re the good, obedient husband, and I lure to you back to my place for some hot, wicked adultery.” Atobe giggled when Tezuka’s hot breath tickled the hairs right around his wedding band, and he pulled it away.

“It can’t be adultery,” Tezuka sighed. “We’re married.”

“That’s why we _pretend_ ,” Atobe insisted. “Play with me sometime.”

“No,” Tezuka glanced out the window.

Atobe pouted in a way that really shouldn’t have been adorable on a man of his age, but which Tezuka still found hopelessly irresistible. Tezuka pulled him up out of his lap and into a rather passionate kiss. Atobe tasted like the champagne he’d clearly had too much of.

Now that the pout was cleanly kissed off his face, Atobe reconsidered his options. “Can we fuck in the limo, then?” he asked hopefully.

“I can,” Tezuka agreed, “but I’m not so sure about you. Alcohol thins the blood, you know.”

Atobe nibbled on Tezuka’s earlobe. “I’m more than ready,” he promised.

Tezuka pretended to consider. “Then, yes,” he finally said far too slowly. “That would be acceptable.”

“Tease,” Atobe growled and was immediately all over him. Geoffrey, who had far too much experience with Atobe getting wound up at formal events, had already wisely put up the divider that separated the driver from the passengers.

Tezuka lay back and let himself be assaulted by an armful of eager, squirming Atobe. It really was quite a pleasant predicament to be in.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right,” Atobe considered, fumbling his way into Tezuka’s tuxedo.

“Oh?” Tezuka breathed roughly at the feel of Atobe’s tongue against his nipple.

“Watching you turn all those women down was kind of… _hot_.” Atobe hissed and stretched in an almost feline manner when Tezuka’s hands slipped under the waistline of his pants and up his bare back.

“What was it you said?” Tezuka teased. “Only someone exceptionally greedy would keep me for themselves?” He sunk his teeth into Atobe’s shoulder.

Atobe _screamed_ and, up front, Geoffrey turned up the volume on his headphones. “I am,” he ducked his head down to gasp against Tezuka’s chest, “very, _very_ exceptionally greedy.”

Tezuka coaxed him down by rubbing gentle circles into the small of his back. “Then why on earth do you want to pretend you’re cheating on me?” he asked curiously.

“I would never cheat on you,” Atobe insisted. “I just want to cheat on you _with_ you.”

Tezuka couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’re very drunk,” he concluded.

Atobe sighed contentedly at the rumbling of Tezuka’s chest beneath his ear. “I really am,” he agreed.

Tezuka paused in his rhythmic stroking of Atobe’s back. “Maybe,” he finally considered.

“No, _really_ ,” Atobe insisted with a little hiccup.

“No,” Tezuka corrected him. “Maybe I’ll play your game with you sometime.”

Atobe looked up at him with a slow, sultry smile. “I dunno,” he slurred. “You’re the best wife _ever_. Now I’m not sure I _can_ cheat on you, even if it _is_ with you.”

Tezuka accepted a very lazy kiss. “You’re _really_ very drunk.”

“Mmm-hmm,” was all Atobe could say to that.


End file.
